somersault raze they made me practice diving and swimming laps. they would sit and watch me bend my body into strange shapes, judging the illusion of verticality. all i wanted to do was stand in the shallow end of the pool and do front flips. every time i came up for air, i leaned into something desperate that felt like pure happiness. just for a second. i didn't know it was vertigo. i didn't know it was anything. i only knew how it made me feel. i could do anything in water. i could carry someone twice my size. i could find a way to get stung by a bee that was already dead. and i could turn head over heels and land on my feet, no matter how clumsy the dismount was. when everyone else was doing cannonballs or playing water tag or letting themselves sink to the bottom of the deep end, i was doing somersaults. i did them in public pools. i did them at home. i did them at ryan's pool party and one of my ears popped. i thought i broke something inside my head. i spent the next few hours lying on my side and letting the water drain onto a towel on top of a pillow on a couch in his basement. his mother's worried face was a warm place i couldn't stay. the pain went away, and when i got up to look at myself in the bathroom mirror, i saw a face i didn't recognize. this is how your childhood leaves you: in slow drips that give you back to yourself before you know who you are. 210913 what's it to you? who go blather from